


Becoming Deviant

by PoutyRafeVane1975



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Blood, Crime, DBH, Gen, Murder, POV First Person, Violence, alcohol mention, alcohol use, cursing, rape mention, sex mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-17
Updated: 2018-07-17
Packaged: 2019-06-11 19:18:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15322446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PoutyRafeVane1975/pseuds/PoutyRafeVane1975
Summary: Connor defends a woman from her abuser. What he does makes him a deviant, but does he accept it?





	Becoming Deviant

It wasn't something that I meant to do. It just kind of... happened? But, I had to... I had to do it. She was going to be hurt. She might have been killed. My programming was- screaming at me to defend her.

"Thirty two percent survival."

And the look on his face was pure evil. His intentions from the beginning were evil. How or why would I chance something happening? His criminal record was extensive. If there was a limit, he was definitely past it.

I did the world a favor.

I did her a favor.

All I could do at work was stare at the computer screen and think of what I had done the night before. I wasn't able to bring myself to think about Sumo or to look Hank in the eyes, or even in his direction. He kept asking me what's wrong, almost prying. It annoyed me. I can't tell anyone about what I did. If I do, they'll kill me. I'm afraid to die and I don't want to die.

I was over at Hank's house. He had invited me and a couple friends over. These friends of his were a married couple.

We were having a good time watching the game, until Hank got a call. He had to go down to the station immediately. He didn't need me, so he told me, "Stay here, Connor. I'll be back at some fucking point."

He left and it was just the couple and I. They told me a lot about how they wanted to start a family. Wait, no, it was just the wife who said that. The husband didn't say a word about it. Every time she mentioned it, he got this disgusted and annoyed expression. Every time she talked about what should be a happy moment between the two, he silently sighed or rolled his eyes.

They had been drinking, him mostly. They had only been there for two hours and he was already four beers in, while she only had one glass of wine.

I told them that I had to do something, so I headed to the kitchen and put away the dishes that Hank didn't. I'm glad that was available to do so I wouldn't lie, and I could run a diagnostic. From my analyzing of him, he was almost drunk, had a heart condition, the possibility of some type of cancer was genetic, and the possibility of being a sex addict was seventy four percent. His criminal record was; murder, robbery, arson, and rape. The counts for each were staggering.

I was nervous, a feeling I wasn't used to. It was unsettling. Every single detail that I had gathered and every emotion that I was feeling was unsettling. Nothing about this situation felt right.

I had glanced over my shoulder momentarily and noticed that they were making their way for the bathroom or Hank's bedroom. Eventually I heard moans and cursing. By the looks of the guy, and his record, it didn't surprise me that he would be sexually demanding. My only hope was that he didn't take advantage of her.

I wanted to sit back down to continue watching the game, but I couldn't bring myself to stay still for even a second. It wasn't what they were doing that was bothering me or the lack of permission, or even how gross it was. What bothered me was how the moans were slowly turning into screams. At first quiet but grew louder as the minutes passed by.

I refused to let myself sit there for a moment longer. I stood up, but as I did, the wife came running out of the bedroom. She was only in her underwear. The husband followed shortly after, his jeans hardly hanging onto his hips. I was confused until I saw that she was crying, her mascara running, and her hands shaking. His brows were furrowed and his face was red from anger and alcohol. The veins on his neck stood out when he started screaming at her.

"You dumb cunt! What the fuck is wrong with you? You'll do it every other time! Why not now?"

"Please, Connor, don't let him hurt me!" Even her voice was shaking as she begged me.

She got behind me to use me as a shield.

"Oh, you're gonna hide behind this piece of plastic like it can protect you? Move outta the way, buddy."

He reached his hand out to shove me out of his way, but I was quicker than him. My hand flew up and stopped his. He didn't like this at all.

"I said- Move. It."

I just stared at him dead in the eyes. I think something inside of me flicked, because his expression went from serious to terrified. The wife noticed this.

"I told you no. I told you that I wanted to stop."

He huffed, "So? You'll let me fuck you that way any other time. Why not now?"

"You know that I hate when you ask to do that when you're drinking. You can't even do it sober!"

I wanted to laugh at her reply until his eyes went from her to me.

"Is it 'cause you wanna fuck this shit? This- this bundle of plastic and metal? It's a thing! It has no feelings, you stupid slut. It probably doesn't even have a dick!"

I took a breath in. "Leave her alone."

"Ah, it speaks!" He stepped back.

"You need to leave."

He laughed. "I ain't going anywhere. You can't make me, this ain't your house! And she isn't your wife, you don't own her."

"You don't own her either. She's not an object."

She had sat down on the couch and curled her knees to her chest.

He huffed angrily at me for a few seconds before unexpectedly pushing past me. As if it was one swift motion, he grabbed onto her arm and pulled her up to his face.

"I'm gonna take you back in that room and fuck you senseless-"

"Put her down and leave, or else I'll have to call the cops."

"You won't do shit, buddy! How about, I fuck her right here and you watch? You watch and learn how to fuck a girl properly."

He turned her around and bent her overly violently. He was about to tear her underwear off. She was crying and trembling.

I grabbed him by the shoulders and threw him back, onto the floor. I've never used all the strength I have inside of me.

"What the fuck-?"

I got level with him and grabbed his collar, picking him up and slamming him onto the wall.

We locked eyes for a second. The fear had filled his eyes.

"P-put me down! I'll leave!"

I let him go just a second too late. An analysis told me that he was lying. Fuck.

He grabbed her by the neck and began to strangle her.

My bare hands weren't going to cut it.

I quickly grabbed a knife from the counter top.

She was scratching at his hands as she gasped for air. Her scratching became weaker within seconds.

"I should have fucking killed you that one time we did knife play. You're such a goddamn annoyance. I don't even know why I married your dumbass! You're just a good pussy and mouth to fuck-"

His grip rapidly loosened around her neck and she could breathe again. She collapsed onto the floor as she used the couch for support to steady herself. Blood began to pour from where I stabbed him in the back, right into the stomach. I grabbed his shoulder and leaned to his ear, "I'm not done yet."

Pulling the knife out in a slow twisting motion, I stabbed him again, this time puncturing the lung. I heard it collapse. Once more, I pulled the knife out and twisted it.

I stabbed him again. And again. And again. I lost count.

Her sobs and screams went silent. Her tears dried.

The blood pooled on the floor.

"You need to get dressed and leave."

She nodded her head. When she emerged a few minutes later, she looked proper - no smudged make up and clothing perfectly neat.

She rubbed where her wedding ring was. "I flushed it." She whispered.

I looked at her neck where his hand marks were. She noticed and pulled her collar up and over her neck. "I'll cover it up until it goes away."

She looked down to the floor and the blood, careful to not step in it. Then she looked to me, still a bit fearful.

"Thank you." That was all she said. She gave me a reassuring pat on the arm and left the house.

I dragged the body out to the backyard and buried it. Deep. I cleaned up the blood to the best of my ability, the spot where it happened is almost spotless. Any drag marks are gone. I lit as many candles as Hank had in the house. I started a bonfire in the backyard and burned the remains of his clothing.

I think Hank might know what I did... he mouthed a thank you at me when he arrived at the station.

I'm a deviant.


End file.
